RPlog:Volunteering
Another long afternoon of paperwork, meetings, interviews with the press and government- and to top it all, having to deal with a potential new officer. Camrath Kizuka is NOT having the best of days. "Been far too long since I killed anything." The scarred Sar admiral muses to himself as he sips at a cup of coffee, making notes on a datapad with his free hand. It doesn't even feel right being on solid ground again- after so long spent on his flagship, normal gravity takes a little getting used to to say the least. Lynae is waiting in the hallway for the Admiral's most recent business to be concluded, not quite 'hat in hand' but as close to it as possible. She runs one hand through her recently trimmed hair, having had it cut almost back to the navy equivalent of a 'high and tight', which leaves her ear's feeling stranded and naked on the sides of her head. Getting the nod from the officer operating as gate keeper for the Admiral, Lynae gives her suit jacket a brief tug then walks forward, pausing in the doorway long enough to make sure she's not interrupting before speaking, "Requisition forms and paperwork minutia, I always hated that part of the job," by way of greeting. Her voice is clear, quietly spoken and still carrying the faintest edge of an accent that a trained ear would recognize as Caridan. "Do you have a free moment, Admiral?" she asks politely. The unannounced arrival of someone in his room actually has Camrath's hand racing towards his blaster holster, his personal Kylan half out of its holster before he relaxes. Old habits die hard. "I have rumblings from the Empire, multiple fleets of ships that all need replenishment orders signed, new ships to order built AND I haven't finished my caffeine yet. Do I sound like I have a moment?" He replies somewhat gruffly, his stance relaxing. "But given my concentration is already broken, please have a seat. What do you want" He's now not sounding quite so angry- more just deeply put upon. The desk-bound life is not right for such a being of action. Lynae's left hand twitches slightly, nothing more than a telltale movement of her fingertips as the Admiral starts to ready his blaster. Other than that she doesn't move, merely keeping both hands at her sides, both palms open and visibly displayed as being unarmed. Moving towards the indicated chair she seats herself, sitting on the edge of the seat, spine straight, shoulders squared, hands still kept visibly palm open. "To see if you have any room in your navy for a former Imperial naval officer who has ten years of combat experience to her record, ending responsibilities as task force commander," she answers simply. That gets Kizuka's attention a little, at least. He seems to have relaxed fully now from his previously hostile stance- evidently he just HATES surprises. After the incident with the stripper in the cake, his last birthday party really lost the atmosphere, after all.. His brows raise at her statement of her Imperial service however. "Oh, so your service overlapped with my own then." He comments. "Did you serve as a ship-officer all your career? I can't remember coming across your name in any of the communiques when I was in the Navy or commanding the IGF.. Still, they do train well in the Imperial academy.." He falls silent, musing to himself for a moment. "Actually, no, support command," Lynae replies with a slight shake of her head. "Many of my assignments were actual postings to research stations or classified projects. I did rotations in the field as well as in the lab. I am a medical doctor as well as a scientist, I have a doctorate in general medicine and a doctorate in exotic disease research, treatment and creation. I am a qualified and accredited surgeon, as well as a trained pilot and having completed several command training courses. It was only in the last year of my service that I was promoted to Acting-Captain, then Captain in right, and ending as Commodore." "Ah, so your actual fleet command experience is lacking?" Camrath comments with an arched eyebrow. "I know how fast promotion can be in the Empire, but such a term of service, no matter how worthy, is enough for me to allow you a post of actual command? I commanded entire armies for five years and only was able to enlist in the Navy here at a captain's rank." He leans back in his chair. "Depending upon your security check, performance in assessments and swiftness in adapting to our culture here in the assimilation course, I could only offer you the rank of Lieutenant in the fighting arm of the Navy,in a role dependant upon your skills. Though if you were to join us as medical officer, I could bring you in at captain's rank. Possibly higher. Our medical corps need skilled practitioners almost more than I need gunnery and sensor officers. Why not take that path instead?" Lynae sits in a moment of silence, her gaze moving from the Admiral's face down to stare at her own hands for a moment. When she speaks, her voice is as quiet as before, though still clearly spoken, no mumbling from this woman. "I have signed hundreds of death certificates, Admiral. First from medics and medical personnel under my own command, later as a doctor assigned to the front lines, there and back again. Hundreds of death certificates, more than I can accurately estimate at this point. Soldiers, colleagues, friends of mine and then personnel under my command. Not only have I signed off on them, but I have used my skills to grant the Emperor's Mercy to wounded that we could not save. I have created bio-compounds that have both taken life, and repaired it." She looks up again, her gaze steady and unflinching, "I have used my skills to both take life and save it," she repeats. "I used my medical training in combat, approaching the given engagements from an often unexpected point of view, and by being methodical and efficient, as I was trained to be. I carried out the bombing of Cochran. And I have spent these last few months fighting for my life, and trying to remember what it was to be a physician, not the weapon that I needed to be as an Imperial Officer. Would you trust me, if you were wounded? Would you believe me when I told you that I'll do the best that I can, using everything available to treat your wounds and set you on the path towards being fully mobile and able bodied again?" He listens to her words attentively at least. "Your arguments are understandable on a personal level, Ms Cassius. However, in my experience.." As he moves, the faint sound of bionics whirrs from multiple places on his heavily scarred body.. "When your guts are hanging out or your limb charred off whatever ELSE the doctor treating you might have done, well that doesn't matter a notch so much as the question of how well they can fix you up." He takes a breath and pulls out another datapad, making quick notes while glancing over the top of it at Lynae. "So you would ONLY be willing to take a role in the fighting arm? If you were to join our medical branch and assist on a shipboard posting, you COULD take additional training to shift into a command role at a future date.." Lynae's expression is firmly neutral, though a close look would see that she's fighting to keep it that way. Never one for making emotional based comments or allowing something like that to be conveyed on a whim, she takes a deep breath before she nods. "I need to fight again, Admiral. I'm a soldier, it's part and parcel of what I am. Be that fighting in combat or fighting to save lives, I need to be fighting again. This life, as a civilian, is a half life. I have seen the shape of the new Empire under the hand of the new Emperor. There are two things I fear now in this life. Dying of old age, and being forced to kneel before the Emperor and surrender after the independent worlds have fallen." Her head tilts slightly, "If the need that's greatest at the moment is for medical officers, then that is where I will willingly serve. To the best of my abilities and to the fullest of my potential. But yes, I would like the opportunity to apply for additional training, not to resign one set of duties for another. But in the event that an extra pair of hands is needed, I will not again be caught in a position of not knowing what to do." "I can understand your feelings- but I should point a few things out. First of all, we are a neutral power. We survive BECAUSE of that. While an urge to fight is admirable in any warrior, to hear you talk now makes me worry slightly about your self control. We don't fight much here in the CDU. We train, so that when we DO have to, we are unstoppable- but part of our job in the military is to avoid fighting and bloodshed as much as it is to cause it." Lecture delivered, however, he nods. "However if there ARE problems in that area, your superiors will find out during your conversion training. Report tomorrow morning to Trinumvira base with PT kit, two changes of personal clothing and all your personal records- birth certificate, identification and so on. You'll be processed and sworn in, prior to the completion of a security vetting process. After that, you will receive 'Caspianisation' training followed by a course of escape and evasion training on KOS under Captain Kimelea. Should this all be successful you will be entered as a captain in our medical branch." Lynae smiles faintly, "I have all of those documents stored," and there's a note of irony in her tone of voice. "I'm not interested in taking up arms against the Empire, Admiral. Nor am I interested in beginning a campaign on my own to bring galactic peace to the universe. I once said that I believed that the only place for such a thing to even begin would be here, and no where else. I still believe that, though I'm quite certain I rank and slightly kooky for saying it aloud - and admitting to having said it, on the record. I'll be there," she adds with another measured nod. "Very well then. Be prompt, and be open. You shouldn't have any problems." He rises to his feet to bid the woman farewell. "Good luck, Ms Cassius. Perhaps I'll be seeing you on my flagship before too long." His hand is extended to officially greet her into the navy, the bionics within whirring faintly. Lynae rises from the chair, clasping the offered hand for a brief, firm, handshake before stepping back. "Thank you, Admiral," she says quietly, her expression still somber and serious. There's a distinctive air of formality in her posture, not quite bracing to attention but just about a quarter of an inch away from doing so. She offers a slight bow then takes her leave.